Jungle Drum
by onelildustbunni
Summary: My heart's beating like a jungle drum..." 616- post Nimrod. Julian Keller just has a small addiction problem. You know, to a girl called Laura Kinney. Fluff/smut it's kind of none-explicit but M for sure! New X-men: Hellion and X23
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Jungle Drum  
**Rating: **M/NC-17  
**Pairing: **Julian Keller/Laura Kinney  
**Universe:** 616

**Summary: **"My heart's beating like a jungle drum..." 616- post Nimrod. Julian Keller just has a small addiction problem. You know, to a girl called Laura Kinney.  
Fluff/smut (it's kind of none-explicit but M for sure!) New X-men: Hellion and X23

**A/N: **Short story, only 4 chapters long. Watch for other new stories coming soon including thefive (might be renamed), the world, and Detention. Yes, the ideas keep on comin!

* * *

**  
****-1-**

Laura Kinney stormed headfirst into the locker room, her heart thumping in her ears, her eyes on the tiled floor. She was angry—angry at what Ms. Frost had said. The truth. The truth,  
that she should leave the institute, because she was a danger to the other teens. She could snap at any given moment if exposed to trigger scent.

Why she was angry, she was not certain. She had never been angry about the truth before; usually it was unnecessary lies that irritated her. Unless vital to a mission, lies were the  
stories of a coward and a person consumed with greed; and she graded such people against the likes of Dr. Xander Rice, part of the team that had created her.

_He_ made her angry.

Laura clenched her fists, breathing hard and trying to stifle the tears that threatened to escape. Cessily had attempted to stop her at the hallway leading from the Danger Room, but  
she had shaken her off and lost her amongst the flocks of appreciated the girl's effort and sweet nature, but Cessily didn't _understand _how right Ms. Frost was.

Her mind knew her next logical action: gather her possessions, and leave the mansion. Immediately. Should she tell Logan she was going? But Logan—the very man who should watch  
out for her, and feel responsible for her predicament—didn't seem to care. He hadn't spoken to her in weeks, and Laura felt that all the promises he'd made her about protection were  
false. The facility would never have to come through Wolverine to get her, because Wolverine wasn't _there. _

"Ahem."

Laura froze, and her nostrils flared, unwillingly. Her eyes travelled up, and she realized she was standing in the middle of the shower room—and it quite distinctly wasn't the ladies' room.

And straight across from her was the person she'd been watching in the Danger Room. Julian Keller. He was standing straight under a shower head that was running at full blast, and he was quite naked.

Laura's eyes shot to the one thing she _shouldn't_ look at, and she flushed red.

"I—" she was speechless from embarrassment at her mistake. Her eyes widened and suddenly she found she couldn't tear her eyes away. She decided to back up, a horrible strategical  
idea for an exit. Her foot caught a bar of soap lying on the floor and she slammed down on her behind, in a large puddle of dirty shower water.

"Wow, you alright there?" Julian asked, not coming to help her.

She looked down, letting her now-wet hair cover her face. "Yes," she mumbled.

Laura began to gather herself up, humiliated. At least she'd broken her gaze on…that. She was furious with herself. It wasn't as if she had not seen one before; and although she was fascinated  
with the boy, she hardly wanted a confrontation. She preferred to watch him unnoticed.

She got to her feet and turned away, towards the hallway that led out.

"Noticed you watching me in the 'Room, X," Julian said suddenly, as she reached the doorway. "You got a problem or something?"

"…" Laura nearly looked at him again, but stopped herself in time, so she looked to the side. "No."

She heard him pick up a shampoo bottle and squeeze some into his palm; then the only sound was the water crashing down from the showerhead and his hands in his hair, so Laura moved  
again. She was at the exit when he spoke again.

"Come here," he said.

Laura froze, her eyes riveted on the hallway. Then she turned and came back to the shower room, but she kept her eyes firmly on the tiled floor, determined not to repeat her mistake.

"Yes?" she asked.

"No, _here_, clone," he said. She could hear that he was sneering at her. She approached him slowly, her heart beating like a jungle drum in her chest. She came within a yard of him and stopped.

"Yes?" she asked again.

"Look at me," Julian said calmly.

Laura's eyes widened. "N-no," she said, her eyes on the ground.

He moved slightly, reached out of the region of the shower spray, and his finger curled under her chin and tilted it up. "I _said,_ look at me."

Laura snapped her eyes shut in panic.

"I—no. I don't want to."

"Don't lie—you always want to."

"…" Laura realized this was true, and she _was_ lying. Reluctantly, her eyes opened, and he came into focus. He looked even better than usual, his hair slicked back under the water, which  
was also beating on his skin. The shine highlighted his musculature.

Her eyes dropped automatically, following the light trail of hair down his stomach to—something she had caught herself thinking about once or twice before, and trying to approximate, using  
her knowledge of body measurements and proportions. And statistics.

As she looked on, he slowly began to react, and she froze.

"Thought so," Julian said, grinning. He reached out and pulled her under the spray of the water, a rough movement which caught Laura off-guard. She chastised herself lightly, wondering why  
she seemed to have forgotten thirteen years of reflex training in _this_ moment. She was being pressed against the wall by his hand. She was still staring at him with wide eyes, but now she looked up.

He leaned closer. "You come in here and _stare_ at me, and you think I'm going to let you walk out of here, clone?" he taunted.

"Let go of me," Laura said apprehensively.

"You don't mean that," he said confidently. His hand slid down from her shoulder, down her arm and elbow to her wrist. It stopped there, his fingers curling around the soft skin that she  
often parted with her claws.

She wished she could cut herself now. She was a ball of confusion.

He moved her hand towards him. "Get me off," he murmured, close to her ear.

Laura felt like a piece of rubber. Men had instructed her to do much the same thing before, but none had had _this_ effect on her, because she had not been interested in their  
advances. Now…her eyebrows drew together.

"Julian..." she said, her voice pleading. She couldn't do this, especially not now, when she was going to leave.

"That's my name," he said. He moved closer, and his teeth ran over the rim of her ear. "You can say it later. When you need to."

"…" Laura shivered, still uncertain. He pressed her hand against him, and the skin was very soft, and warm, and smooth. And went on for quite a while. Her hand slipped down  
and reached the end; she looked at him again, and saw that he had closed his eyes, his lips parted.

"Like that," he said.

She considered, then she tightened her grip, and made a proper motion, like she had learned. His features screwed up and he put a hand on the wall to steady himself; a few  
moments later she stopped. "No. I have to—I have to go."

"…" Julian grabbed her by the shoulders as she moved sideways and crushed her against the wall again. His lips found hers and seemed to meld against them in searing, burning  
heat; for a moment her hand flailed helplessly against the wall, then the power of the sensation struck her, and she stopped trying to get away entirely.

The rest happened in a blur. Time became an abstract concept to Laura; she wasn't sure if the duration was several seconds or several hours. All she was aware of was his hands  
running over her body—and being allowed to run her curious fingers over his, feeling what she had only seen in the past.

Her clothing was quickly peeled away (sopping wet from the shower spray), and her hair was doused in water by the time he slammed her against the wall purposefully, breaking  
the latest frenzy of lip contact.

Laura knew what came next. She held her breath as he positioned them and then pushed her further into the wall, so close that their stomachs touched and she could feel the slight  
ridges of his abdominal muscles. Something else too, that caused her to arc her spine and exhale as he miraculously hit the right spot.

They moved for a while longer, the water adding to the pounding sensation, his lips roaming up and down the side of her neck. He slid his finger into her most sensitive parts and  
began to explore as they approached the breaking point of the tension that had built.

"Uh—" Laura threw her head back against the wall, coming undone with a series of seizures. She hadn't known this could happen. She opened her eyes wide, still trembling as  
he finished, seemingly not noticing.

He slumped against her for a few moments, then drew away completely and wiped water off his brow with the back of his arm. "Good stuff," he mumbled.

Laura tilted her head, still breathing heavily. _Good. _Yes, that's what she felt; tingles travelling up and down her body where he had touched her—and a craving for more.

She tried her mouth; she was still speechless.

However, he seemed to have collected himself; he stepped back into the shower spray and resumed his cleansing, his back turned to her; Laura finally moved, her feet making a  
squishing sound on the floor. Her eyes turned to her clothing, strewn on the floor—and sopping wet.

"M-my clothes," she said uncertainly.

Julian didn't turn.

"They're—"

"I don't care. You got yourself in here, you get yourself out."

Laura shivered again, and then stepped towards the shower—towards the heat.

"No, X." He glanced at her now, his expression slightly irritated, slightly loathing. "This was a one-time thing. And…you tell anyone, I will _not_ be happy, got it?"

"Yes," Laura said, confused.

"Good. Now get the hell away from me before I tell the heads you've stepped up your creep factor."

Laura looked at the ground, then moved towards her belongings and gathered them up. She dressed quickly, ignoring the unpleasantness of the cold fabric against her skin; then she  
headed for the exit, making _squish squish _sounds as she moved.

"X—" Julian called after her. She paused.

"Nice tits," he said, grinning.

Laura left in a huff.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Haha, this story _is_ smut, and very stupid at the same time. I felt freer to post it after reading a few other stories on here and seeing they stayed up. You're going to see Julian pay for his crime in the beginning, lol.  
But be warned: this story does get a little explicit at times (I've avoided naming parts, tried to leave it to the imagination; I also don't use cheesy words like 'lovestick' or anything)...still I realize, not everyone's dish,  
so if you don't want to read it, back out!

**  


* * *

-2-  
**

Julian was having a stressful day. He had exams, and practice, and grief to deal with—always plenty of _that_ to go around.

And he missed Sofia, so much that it was almost tangible to him, a shadow that followed him around, a taste in his mouth. His heart literally gave him sharp pains from stress and unhappiness,  
and several times he'd thought he was going to have a heart attack.

On top of everything, his powers were going crazy. He couldn't lift anything smaller than a fridge without blowing up the room he was in. And _that_ was because he'd saved X from dying, just as  
he would for any of his friends, or acquaintances.

He'd been very angry on the day that X walked in on him in the showers; he'd just had a bad run with Dr. McCoy, trying to lift a paperclip. He'd caused an enormous crater in the steel floor of the  
Danger Room; he was annoyed beyond reason as he stormed into the shower room and threw off his clothes, thinking that a shower might help de-stress him, and relieve the tension between  
his shoulder blades that was about to cause him a migraine.

Then X had entered the room quite dramatically, looking as if her day was going just as badly. And then…he wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he thought it went along the lines of realizing  
she was _staring_ at him like she'd never seen a guy naked before—and also realizing that she sort of owed him her life.

And her top was _very_ low-cut. He'd responded almost instantly, and the rest was…history.

But now, he was afraid she would tell. He was terrified that Logan would somehow find out he'd treated her like a hooker. He was worried his friends would find out and hate him for it. He wasn't  
sure why she brought out the worst in him; he found himself spending the next day of class chewing at the end of his pencil and thinking: why?

He finally decided that X disturbed him; she scared him; but she was also very attractive—maybe more so than Sofia. What they'd done had felt better than the few times he'd had so far—there was  
no question about that—but he'd been repulsed and irritated with himself for giving in, and not pausing to think who he was doing it with.

So he took it out on X and treated her like a 'crack whore', as he thought of it, wincing to himself and biting his pencil extra hard.

He was in a bad spot, and he was basically dead if Wolverine found out.

_**BRRRRRRRRING! **_The bell rang, the class stood up, and Julian hurried to gather his things. X was always one of the last to leave, and he couldn't be near her right now—especially in case she  
tried to talk to him about the other day.

But when he looked up, X was gone, having rushed out first.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

A week later, and it was still bothering him, as much as it had in the minutes and hours directly following the incident. He finally admitted to himself that he needed to talk to her,  
to apologize. He was a jerk, yes, but he wasn't a complete asshole.

He needed to get her alone. Unfortunately, he knew she had a roommate—and he wanted to draw absolutely no attention to the fact that he had traded words with her. Hence,  
he couldn't approach her room, or in class.

He waited for an opportunity. It came soon after.

"We're going to the mall later," Cessily said to X after Biology class as they gathered their books. "Want to come? Sooraya, Megan and Loa are coming."

"No, thank you. I have to study," X replied.

"You're always studying!" Cessily pouted, but she let it go at that.

_Perfect. _Julian continued to gather his books, acting like he hadn't overheard, but he was already planning what he would say.

* * *

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, words spinning in his mind. _Can we talk? I'm sorry, I'm sorry I was such a douchebag…I'm really not like that…well, not that bad  
anyway. Can you forgive me? Can we be friends? _

He paused. Did he really want to be friends with X?

_Nice tits. _

He covered his face with his hand. No, they probably couldn't be friends after that. He'd really dug himself a grave this time. Give a man a shovel…

He noticed, finally, that she hadn't answered the door. He knocked again, then pressed his ear to the wood—and realized there was no light on in the room (from the dark  
strip under the door). Sighing—with disappointment? with relief?—he turned around and made his way down the hall.

_No! This has to come out! _he thought, annoyed with himself. _Write a note? No, you owe it at least to her face. She must be downstairs. _

He headed down the staircase, to the library, figuring that was a good place to start, if she was studying. Everyone was busy in the rec room and the kitchen; not many people stayed  
in the library, unless they were cramming desperately. And there were no exams for a few weeks, so it would be perfect; he could get his alone time to straighten things out.

Entering the library, he paused, his eyes roaming the room. There! X was sitting in on the sofa facing away from him, her hair swept up off her neck and hanging over the edge of the back  
cushion. She was concentrating on her text book.

Where to start? He swallowed a few times, then forced himself to enter the room, rolling his eyes at his reluctance.

He moved up to the back of the sofa and peered over her shoulder, deciding the best way to start would be to act nonchalant.

"Psychology, huh?" he said, reading the subject of the book out loud. He noted that she was tense, stiff—but he had not seen her move. As if she had been frozen before he saw her.

Oh. The super-hearing. She'd heard him standing in the doorway, then, uncertain of how to approach her. _Smooth as butter, Keller. _

X said nothing in response, just stared at her book and breathed shallowly as he continued to lean over. This was awkward. He'd expected her to at least react, to say something; even  
nervous conversation would help. Or anger.

But she was almost…afraid of him?

He had a momentary feeling of panic, wondering if she'd been a willing participant; but he reminded himself how involved she had been. And, also, of the fact that X could certainly cut him  
into confetti if he'd tried to force her to do something she didn't want.

_No time like the present. _

He cleared his throat. "Look, X…I want to…"

It was then he realized he could see right down her top. Clear to her belly button. He stopped, tilting his head; he hadn't been lying when he'd commented about her breasts. They _were_  
quite perfect, and even though he was angry about the interaction they'd had, he'd regretted not paying more attention to them. They deserved to be…

"…" X tilted her head up and looked at him, her eyes questioning. Her lips were parted, and they looked inviting. He gazed at her, realizing he had fallen silent, but not remembering what  
on earth he had come into the library for. Although it seemed likely that it was along the lines of screwing X, based on his thoughts of the present moment.

Actually, it was a really good idea. She'd let him, too, he knew already. He gave up thinking altogether and went for it, transferring his hands from the back of the sofa to her face, her  
white throat, and the shapes that had caught his attention, while he occupied his mouth with hers. X made a noise of surprise and snapped her book closed, having not expected him to  
touch her again.

She pulled away slightly. "Julian—you said—it was a 'one-time' thing," X said, her eyebrows drawn together. "My understanding of the term is that the activities were secluded to that  
particular date and time, not—"

Julian said probably the stupidest thing he'd come up with that day.

"Two-time thing," he practically growled. X's eyebrow arched in question, but he didn't care; in another moment he was over the back of the sofa, sprawled on top of her and removing  
her top as fast as his fingers could move. He freed one breast and wasted no time in treating it to something he'd daydreamed about on the rare occasion that he let himself remember  
the _good_ parts of that 'event'.

"Ahh—" X exhaled sharply. He thought quickly—or he didn't—about the fact that they were still in the open, with no locked door, and his hand travelled up to cover her mouth as he  
worked. He decided to switch to the other globe, found himself blocked by her still-tied corset, and set to trying to untie it one-handed.

He failed, and before X could protest into his palm, a green stripe shot up the front, and the laces fell apart, severed. She looked down at her top, then closed her eyes and shifted as  
his mouth found the sensitive center of the curve.

Julian sat back, his hand leaving her mouth so he could massage the two globes, gazing down at her. She was really pretty, he thought vaguely. Her skin was very fair—almost white—and  
smooth. Soft, too. And her breasts were…

"Can I fuck your tits?" he blurted, then he realized that maybe it was _him_ that should be silenced with a palm.

X stared at him.

Then… "Yes," she said.

He completely blanked out for a moment. Then, he was consumed with fumbling around the closures of his jeans, of which there seemed to be a million of. X reached up, and her soft fingers  
found a button he was fighting with—and undid it. He let his hands fall away as she took care of the rest, her motions calm and deliberate, almost practiced—like everything she did.

Julian didn't last long at all. He thought he literally exploded (there was a strange noise), then realized it was only a small part of him, and that now it was laying in a stripe across her throat.

When he 'awakened', as he thought of it, he was panting, one arm on the back of the couch, one still on her exposed curve. X was staring up at him.

"Did…" he looked up, at the wall of books, and realized they had all shifted position. Several were laying on the floor.

"Someone is coming," X whispered.

Julian panicked. He grabbed his crotch and promptly zipped himself in, causing a world of pain he hadn't thought possible. He sat back on the couch, gasping, as X quickly tied new knots  
in a few crucial places on her top.

"Is everything all right here? I heard this big sound…"

In the doorway, Scott Summers, looking concerned.

"Everything is fine. Julian was practicing, and he accidentally caused the books in the shelf to move," X lied, perfectly and smoothly.

"Oh." Scott bought it, completely. "Well…don't do that in here, Julian. Until your power levels come down…you should save practice for the Danger Room."

"…uh huh," Julian said, trying not to cry or wince. It was hard.

Scott left, and X studied the boy.

"You have injured yourself," she whispered after a moment.

Julian didn't answer.

"Allow me," she said pressing on his shoulder. He leaned back, causing a fresh stab of pain; however X ignored this, reaching down to the painful area.

"DON'T—" he said, but it was too late; X had begun to work the zipper. Carefully, because she could smell blood; but it was still excruciatingly painful. Finally he was free, and he stared  
down at himself. The injury was tiny but it sure didn't feel like it.

"You should be fine. Clean it, avoid erections and wear loose-fitting boxers for a few days," X whispered.

She reached over him, and picked up her book; he caught a glimpse down her top again—and received a fresh jolt of pain that seemed to run along his back.

"GNNN—" he said.

"Goodnight," X said, leaving the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Aww thanks fbdarkangel!

* * *

**  
-3-  
**

Julian felt he had paid penance quite well for his latest disastrous interaction with X, as he spent the next week in agony, too proud to ask Elixir to heal him. The boy would need to know  
what he was healing in order to regenerate the tissue, and Julian wasn't about to share his story.

So he suffered. Eventually he could walk without limping strangely, and he was able to wear jeans again, although his tight costume still hurt. He was now afraid of zippers; an odd phobia,  
he supposed, but he could not help the flutter of panic he felt when doing up his pants.

X had not been much help either. Seeing her in the cafeteria—wearing a small tank top and a choker—reminded him of the events before his small injury. It was official; he now stiffened  
whenever he saw her. Not only did she look good, but he pictured their unintended coupling, and it caused some awkward and painful pauses.

The worst had been in the Danger Room, with Emma Frost yelling instructions at them as they fought holographic Sentinels. During one moment, X had been on the head of a Sentinel, her  
claws jammed into the circuits at its neck; during the next, she was tumbling into him, having been flung off like a ragdoll.

Automatically he'd caught her, taking the brunt of the impact; and somehow his brain connected the position with other activities (the ones he wanted to hide from the others). A small stab  
of pain had followed, along with an unmistakable bulge in the front of his uniform that had taken about a minute to subdue, with unrelated thoughts. The pain had helped as well.

Despite all this penance, Julian knew he had failed to apologize—he'd just used her more—and it annoyed him, to no end. Two weeks later, he finally vowed to himself that he would try again,  
and that he and X would end this on friendly terms that would allow them to be on the same team without discomfort.

* * *

The chance came one evening in the weight room, when he was doing a small set of his daily exercises (smaller than his bi-weekly real workout). He happened to be lifting a barbell when he  
caught sight of X entering the room—in a sports top and yoga tights.

Very tight tights.

"GAH—" he dropped the barbell (almost on his throat but it caught the stand in time) and curled up at the unexpected twinge of pain. The wound had healed, but there seemed to be a tiny nerve  
that had been damaged in the zipping, and it plagued him every time he began to respond to some stimulus or another.

X stopped, uncertain.

"I'm fine," he croaked, beads of sweat on his forehead. The pain had passed, and now he remembered why he had felt it in the first place.

He sat up and watched her head over to the weight machine in the corner—and straddle it.

Julian cleared his throat. No. Not now. He had to clear the air between them. He was now one hundred percent certain he'd been an asshole to her, and he owed her an enormous apology.

He slipped off the bench and cleared his throat again.

Then she bent over.

She did it to adjust something at the head of the weight machine, but Julian didn't care. The motion seemed to have completely erased his logical thought process; he could hear the ideas  
echo in his head and die as all the blood rushed down to fuel what he'd painfully started a few minutes ago.

He stared at her perfectly shaped behind, thinking of all the times he'd seen it encased in her vinyl-like costume, and wondering how he could have missed it so completely.

X froze. Julian had moved across the room, making a noise that she assumed was an address to her; and then—suddenly—his hands were on her rump, his message obvious.

He wanted to fornicate.

"I…." X said uncertainly. Then he lifted his leg over the bench as well and brought his still-clothed lower half in contact with hers, his thumbs rubbing over her behind in small circles.

It felt…she closed her eyes and let her front sink to her elbows, effectively raising herself towards him. A while later he was pounding against her, into her, and she was biting her  
thumb to not make noise—what he wanted, apparently.

Other than that, Laura wasn't sure what he wanted.

When they finished—within seconds of each other—it was all-consuming. Julian threw his head forwards, unconsciously releasing a small burst of energy—along with his other  
projection—which struck the barbell sitting above X's head.

_THUNK!_

"…" Julian covered his mouth, horrified. For a moment X lay still; then she moved her hand and pushed the barbell away to reveal a pool of blood sitting on a patch of unmarred skin.

"I have to go," X said, sounding displeased. She pulled away from him, her hand reaching to hike up her tights (which had never completely been removed).

"W-wait," Julian panted, reaching out and putting a hand on her behind; this time less of a sexual gesture, and more of a comforting one. "I need to talk to you. For real."

X paused, then turned around to face him, still lying on the bench. Her eyes were cold and distant—no doubt for good reason.

"What?" she asked.

Julian considered. "X—your name is—um—Lorna, right?"

X opened her mouth to speak, then stiffened suddenly, and looked towards the door. Footsteps.

"Laura, you in here?" _Logan. _

Julian turned white as a sheet; X sprang off the bench and was at the door before he could protest.

He sat for a while, trying to figure out what had happened—and how exactly he had messed up this time—when he realized that he'd even managed to call her by the wrong name.

He covered his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: _To a review submitted by ILauraX23: _**You know what's dumb? Reading a Hellion-X23 story and expecting it to star another pairing. It works the same way as canned food...you will find the  
contents are pretty much what is listed on the label. If the story upsets you, don't read it, is my advice. Also, look up the definition of smut.

* * *

**  
-4-**

* * *

Julian couldn't sleep anymore. His dreams had been bad for almost a year now, full of violence, and dead friends. And Sofia leaving. As well as the odd physics-without-a-cheat-card dream,  
which usually surfaced around exam time.

But now, he found he was having trouble sleeping; probably because he'd let his mind stray to the problem he'd started with X.

He had been correct; it was becoming difficult to be around her in training sessions, and the odd times they were called on to help the X-men (as part of their training). He could tell that _she_  
was not happy about the interactions either; but neither could resist them when they came about.

At 4 AM, with a math class at 10 AM, Julian finally sat up in his bed and rubbed his forehead. He roomed alone now, seeing as Brian was dead and buried (another thing that didn't help with  
his sleep—he was almost certain his friend was haunting the space), so he didn't need to worry about disturbing anyone else.

Or so he thought. He shuffled to the door, grabbed a t-shirt lying on the boxes by the door (some of Brian's belongings, that had been prepared for shipping) and pulled it on as he entered  
the hallway, his bare feet making slapping sounds on the hardwood floor.

He headed down the stairs, towards the kitchen, for a soda, figuring that he might as well watch TV. Maybe he'd stumble on some crazy movie that would give him an idea of how to fix this  
fucked up situation, he mused. Failing that, some disgusting imagery to use as a mental 'cold shower'.

Shuffling into the darkened den, he found the TV already on, volume lowered—to a station he hated. He looked around for the remote, then shrugged and sat down—directly on a pair of legs.

"!" The figure sat up; he leapt up quickly and turned to apologize. Then he recognized the pale face in the dim light of the TV.

"…oh, _you,_" he said, sounding exasperated.

X pulled up her legs and stared at him in the dark. "Yes, me," she said.

Julian paused. _Now! Apologize! _his mind screamed. He cleared his throat.

"What do you want?" X asked apprehensively, her eyes still on him.

"Uh—" Julian put his drink down on the coffee table and turned to look at her again. "Look, I wanted to say that I'm really—"

X's hand was on her shoulder strap, her thumb under it, adjusting slightly as it had misaligned itself in her sleep. The movement was by no means suggestive or rude; however he paused,  
mesmerized, his eyes on her breasts as if he had just become aware that she possessed them.

He felt a small jolt of pain and winced.

"…" he trailed off, feeling the odd effect of having his train of thought destroyed.

X's eyes widened, and then her lips parted. His eyes fell down her body, to her…skirt. He could see miles of pale skin.

That seemed to break whatever remained of his restraint. He pounced, sinking her deeper into the couch, his mouth finding hers and his hands travelling up her top to feel the shapes that  
had destroyed his concentration.

Again he was held up by the straps on her corset; she reached over his hands and laid her fingers on his. He froze, and his eyes flickered up to hers, something he didn't practice much of  
during these interactions: eye contact.

"Allow me," X whispered, probably not wanting another top destroyed. He let go and watched as she deftly undid the ribbons that seemed to act as an unbreakable barrier to his attempts;  
seconds later her top was open, and he didn't care anymore. He pushed it out of the way and settled over her, his other hand reaching up her small skirt and feeling.

X made a sound a few moments later. He wondered if he'd managed to hit the right spot. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find it; he wanted to make her helpless and  
quivering. He slid down the couch, pushing her skirt up, and she stared down at him, wondering what he was planning.

He pulled her undergarment down and leaned in.

"_!_" She snapped her head back, amazed. No one had ever put their tongue _there_, and she had no clue it would feel so powerful. She stopped wondering about his reasons, her hand finding  
the cushion above her head and holding on for support of some kind as he began to _work_ her. She didn't last long under the assault; her grip soon tightened on the cushion as she again  
had seizures of some sort.

_Rrrip. _

They both stopped, and looked towards the source of the noise. X had torn a large strip out of the leather, Julian realized, reaching up and wiping his mouth with the back of his arm.

"I will—" she began, pushing herself up, forgetting that he hadn't finished. He reached out and scooped her off the cushion, sitting down at the same time so she was pulled into his lap.

"My turn," Julian found himself grinding out. She stared at him for a second, then looked down—and flushed slightly.

He took a sharp breath, and his hand moved into the region she was staring at, working on freeing himself. Finally succeeding, he pulled her down roughly from where she was perched,  
burying his head in her neck as he did so.

They moved for a while, silently. His eyes travelled over her shoulder to the TV, which was almost muted but showing mutant protests, and Senator Kelly giving some speech or other.  
He let his eyes slide shut, not caring about any of that at the moment. In fact, it seemed to make it even better because in this moment he felt so _alive. _He breathed hard into her neck,  
then pulled back and found her mouth again, a little desperately.

He wanted to feel alive. It was a good feeling, something he'd been missing for a while, now that he carried a death sentence in his hand and a target on his back.

He forgot about most of it as they reached the breaking point, and—incredibly—he felt X shudder again, something he hadn't thought would happen. She was breathing hard too.

Julian leaned back against the cushions and stared at her, his eyes half-lidded. _Now_ he felt sleepy, and content. X was kind of slumped, her hair disheveled and her clothing askew, and  
she was sprawled on his lap, her skirt spread around her. He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair slowly, wondering: why did he keep seeking her out? His reason was slowly  
returning to him, and he realized that someone could walk in on them at any given second.

And that the girl on his lap wasn't that. She was a hardened killer, whom he'd seen in action—taking lives without a second thought.

Also, the girl who was probably pretty pissed at him.

He cleared his throat again, his hand still in her hair. "X…we need to talk."

She opened her eyes, parted her lips, and said…"Someone is coming."

Julian's reaction was quite spectacular. He threw her off his lap, his hands racing to redo buttons he'd mindlessly undone. X blinked from the floor, and then slowly redid the knot on her  
top. She stood up, smoothed her skirt, then spoke again.

"I lied." She headed for the doorway, and Julian stared straight ahead, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

* * *

"Cess, I need advice," Julian said, at lunch, staring at his tray.

He was sitting with his friends in the cafeteria, which had once been packed with students but now contained a much thinner crowd. Out of the New X-men, only Cessily and Santo sat at  
his table, as Sooraya always took her meals alone due to her garb, and X ate elsewhere, for her own reasons.

He missed Brian.

Today, it was only Cessily, as Santo was with the teachers receiving special training. The girl didn't need to eat but liked to pretend she did.

"About?" she asked. He paused to think how glad he was that nothing had happened to _her._ She was one of his best friends, and always seemed open to heart-to-heart talks. She always  
had logical but emotionally smart advice.

Maybe she could clear this up for him.

"Well…" he looked at his taco as he struggled to put his problem into words.

"There's this girl," he started.

Cessily looked astonished. And delighted. "You don't mean Sofia, right?" she asked.

"No, I don't," he said.

"WHO?!" Cessily demanded. "One of us?! It's a cuckoo, isn't it? WAIT—ohmigod—not _NORI_?!?"

Julian's face contorted at the last suggestion. "No, no, and _ew, _Cessily, what the hell?!" He paused. "I don't wanna tell you who, though. I…I'd rather keep this quiet, till I figure it out myself."

"Oh. Okay. I wouldn't tell anyone, though."

"I know." He poked at his taco with a fork.

"Is she in this room right now?" Cessily prodded.

"No," he said. "She's—she's different. I dunno, I guess she scares me a little."

"Blindfold?"

Julian made another face. "Cessily, not _that_ different, jeez." He considered. "But yeah, she's different in that way, I guess. Anyways…I have this problem."

"Trouble talking to her?" Cessily asked knowingly.

He paused. "Yes," he said. He hesitated. "The problem is more along the lines of…well…"

Cessily waited.

"I keep fucking her. And immediately after I treat her like she's a piece of crap," Julian blurted, still staring at his taco.

"_What?!_" Cessily exclaimed. "JULIAN!"

He faltered. "Actually, more like a crack-whore."

Cessily glared at him. He hung his head. "I don't know why it keeps happening," he said miserably. "I've never had this problem before. It's like she brings out the worst in me."

"What do you mean, you treat her badly? Like…oh, Julian, you don't get violent, do you?"

"No!" he said, looking at Cessily in panicked earnest. "I'd never do that! I just…say shit I really don't mean. Or act like I don't want to let anyone know that we've done  
anything. Like if we think someone's coming."

"I see," Cessily said, still sounding disapproving, but less so. She paused. "Do you like her?"

"No!" Julian said. He hesitated. "I don't know. Things are so mixed up for me…I've lost a whole bunch of people I cared about…and Sofia…I'm not over them. I don't know how I feel."

"If that hadn't happened, could you see yourself liking her?" Cessily asked.

"No." Julian paused again. "Maybe."

"You probably do like her, then, if you're unsure," Cessily analyzed. "Otherwise, you'd know for sure that you don't, right?"

"Right," Julian said. He paused. "So what do I do?"

"Um, apologize?" Cessily said, rolling her eyes. "Although it's iffy if she _will_ forgive you. You sound like you've been Top-Grade A-hole to her. I know _I_ wouldn't forgive you!"

"That's just it," Julian said apprehensively. "Every time I try to apologize…I end up screwing her instead. It's like something else takes over. And then she leaves before I can say anything."

Cessily pursed her lips. "Julian…that's…_wow._" She sighed. "Have you tried writing her a letter?"

"Dear girl," Julian composed out loud. "I'm sorry I keep banging you and acting like I don't want to be seen with you. The fact is, I don't. But I'm afraid you'll think I'm a douchebag, because  
then I won't get into the pearly gates of heaven. So—"

"Do you _want_ my help or not?" Cessily said harshly.

"…yes," Julian said, in a small voice.

"Alright. This situation's going to need some ingenuity. Maybe you should try being nice…get her like flowers? Or maybe you could just stop being lame and admit you like her? That'd probably fix the problem."

Julian winced. "Not only do I not want to do that…but I doubt she'd go for it _now. _I haven't exactly proven myself to be boyfriend material."

Cessily rolled her eyes. "I think you should just tell her the truth, y'know. Try not thinking with your dick for once."

"I can't," Julian said miserably. "I have a problem. Just with her, for some reason."

"Maybe you need help from Ms. Frost," Cessily said dryly. "You're so screwed up that you're beyond the range of whatever help _I_ can offer you."

Julian sighed and ate his taco slowly.

**…**

The next afternoon found him in town, picking up his prescription for his headaches (caused by his powers). As he walked up the street towards the pharmacy, he passed a flower  
store, and sped up, gritting his teeth. _No. _

A few moments later he backtracked and was staring at a rack of bouquets suspended in black water buckets, wondering if X had a favorite flower. What—_no!_—he wasn't actually  
considering this. He took off again. But…

He was at the stand again, annoyed with himself. And looking at the bouquet in the upper right corner; green roses and some kind of frilly white flowers. He hesitated, then peered  
at the price tag.

Twenty dollars! He wrinkled his nose, irritated. He didn't have that kind of money since his parents had completely cut him off. Another stab in his already bleeding heart. He backed away  
and began to head down the sidewalk again.

Then stopped. He did have twenty dollars. He looked back, wondering if perhaps he had cost himself that with his actions. He hesitated, then continued down the street to the pharmacy.

**…**

"What's up, girl?" Cessily called cheerfully, seeing Laura pass in the hallway after class. The girl seemed somewhat downcast, her hair hanging over her face, her eyes twitchy and observant—and sad.

"Hello," Laura said in a quiet voice, stopping.

Cessily frowned, then approached her. "You okay? You look all—" she froze. "You're not still upset about Ms. Frost, are you? 'Cause—"

Laura was silent for a moment. Then…"I do not wish to discuss this."

"You shouldn't let her get to you. You're a valuable member of our team…and you're my friend, Laura. How can I have girl time without you? OH!" Cessily grabbed her  
wrist. "C'mon, we're going to the mall now!"

"But—we have English class," Laura said.

"Screw that!" Cessily said, practically dragging her down the hallway.

**…**

At the mall, Cessily bought Laura a sundae and sat down with her at a table.

"Now, _tell me_ why you're upset," she said.

Laura paused. "Cessily—I do not wish to discuss this," she said, distressed.

"Yes you do. You _need_ to discuss this. It's part of being a normal girl who needs friends to help her through hard times," Cessily said fiercely. "Laura, you've been alone too  
long. It's time to start leaning on others a bit."

Laura looked down.

"Is this about Ms. Frost?" Cessily asked again.

"…no," Laura said, surprising the other girl.

"…" Cessily stopped. "Laura, is this about a boy? Is this about _Julian?_"

Laura was quiet.

Cessily thought: Julian had approached her about a problem with a girl…and Laura was sad about something, most likely a boy.

And Julian had expressed his dislike of Laura before.

There could only be one answer. She could put two and two together.

"Laura…you should know something," Cessily said gently. "I think Julian's seeing someone else now."

The other girl's eyes flickered up, interested. Shocked.

"Yeah," Cessily said. She winced. "He came to me yesterday, for advice. He's…well, he's got a problem with a girl. He wouldn't tell me who…but he likes her. He even admitted it,  
kinda." She paused. "Sorry."

Laura's eyes flickered down again, to the melting sundae. Then she reached for the spoon and loaded it.

"There'll be other boys," Cessily said, reaching around and patting the girl on the shoulder. "Better ones. Julian…I love him, and he has a heart of gold, but sometimes he just doesn't  
let it shine. I've seen him do some pretty a-hole-ish things to his friends. Why do you think his ex left him?"

Cessily proceeded to treat Laura to a run-down of all the unfavorable actions she'd seen Julian commit over the years, truly believing she was helping. And she knew that he wouldn't  
mind—he was eager to drive Laura away.

**…**

Julian tried to straighten his face, which had seemed to freeze in an expression of 'do-not-want'. He'd had a hard time slipping into the girl's dorms without being seen—carrying the  
bouquet. Twice he had had to hide it with creative telekinesis while people passed (giving him odd looks).

Finally he reached X's door, and he paused, his heart beating like a jungle drum in his chest. Why was he so disturbed by this? He forced himself to raise his hand and knock on the door.

Scuffles inside. He waited; the door opened—and Sooraya peered out.

"Julian?" she asked, looking surprised.

He faltered. He really hadn't expected Sooraya to be there, as he knew she had class at this time—and Laura didn't.

Sooraya's eyes settled on the flowers.

"Julian?" she asked again, her eyebrow raising behind her burqa.

"These—these are for you," he stammered, shoving the flowers at the girl; then bolted down the hallway. He was _not _ready to have anyone know about this. Even Sooraya, even though  
he subconsciously knew she wouldn't tell. _Especially _Sooraya, because she would judge him harshly for his actions.

"…" Sooraya stood, holding the bouquet and watching the boy as he promptly disappeared.

Laura sniffed the air. _Flowers._ She turned her eyes to Sooraya, who was now closing the door, holding the bouquet with a confused look.

Her fingers tightened on her pencil, and the lead snapped, but she said nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **haha thanks all! Glad this story is being enjoyed!! :-D

* * *

**-6-  


* * *

**

Emma Frost surveyed her students, her arms folded. There was much tension in the air, as per usual. She had never seen so much high-school drama on one team, despite the fact  
that she had schooled many children before.

Today, the emotions were radiating all over the place. Nori was radiating unhappiness, her eyes on David; Cessily was radiating anger at _Emma, _for Kevin and Laura; Sooraya was  
confused about something; Laura—here she paused. She couldn't read the girl, normally—but there was something today.

It involved Sooraya.

She lingered on this for a moment, then her eyes fell on Julian, who was radiating _very_ mixed emotions, so much that they were similar to the patterns of a person that had developed  
multiple personality disorder. He was looking at the ground fixedly, his face pale. Disturbed, Emma probed deeper—and received some unpleasant information.

He was becoming obsessed with X-23.

Emma's eyes widened and her nostrils flared. That _girl_ now had some sort of hold on her favorite pupil. Yes, he was still her favorite, despite the fact that he had actively disobeyed her orders—over X-23.

This would not do at all. Emma's eyes narrowed.

She would have to become involved in the drama, then.

**…**

"Wait!" Julian called, chasing X down the hallway after the training period ended. The girl had seemed eager to leave—in fact, she had been the first out, making it easy for him to pursue. He'd  
acted casual at first, as if he was just eager to hit the shower room—then, leaving his friends behind, started running to keep up.

X didn't slow down, and didn't look back. She was heading for the elevator. Seeing no alternative, Julian fired up his mind and shot towards her; his control was terrible and he slammed head-first  
into the closed elevator doors, bumping her aside on his way.

"…" X, from the floor behind him, glaring.

Julian sat up, pressing a painful spot on his head. He'd forgotten he couldn't _do_ anything power-related anymore. He felt a surge of anger, as he always did when he hit his head (due to hormones  
released upon injuries) , and so the first words out of his mouth were: "Watch where you're going, clone!"

X looked annoyed. "That was not my fault."

"I'm trying to talk to you but you kept running away, so yeah, I'm pissed off!" Julian snapped.

"I do not _want_ to talk to you," she mumbled.

X leapt up and hit the button for the elevator; he scrambled to his feet. The door opened and she rushed in. He jammed his hand in the open door as she hit the 'close' button; he yelped as his hand  
was squished slightly, the automatic detection having not worked in time.

"OPEN IT!" he shouted. X covered her mouth, then her hand found the appropriate button, and he withdrew his slightly reddened limb. He flexed his fingers a few times. "It's fine," he said gruffly.

"Good." X made a move to press buttons again; he flung himself into the elevator and pinned her to the wall. "Look—I'm tired of chasing you. We really, really need to talk about what's going on! This isn't  
healthy! It's eating me up inside!"

He couldn't help the edge of desperation in his voice.

"No." X's green eyes flashed. "I _know._"

"…" Julian stared at her. "Huh? What? What do you '_know_'?"

"About your 'problem'."

He felt his heart squeeze. Cessily had told her? God damn it! But that made it easier. "And?" he asked, hoping that maybe X herself could provide him with some insight.

"I do not wish to discuss this." X looked down, her bottom lip sticking out slightly.

It was distracting. He ran his eyes over her face, his hands still squeezing her shoulders. No. He had to concentrate. "We _have_ to. You have to understand. Cessily may have told you some of it, but—"

X's eyes turned back up, wide. "How do you know she spoke to me?"

"I just do. Look…what I told her is pretty much how it is. I've been meaning to tell you for a while now…because it isn't right, what we've been doing. I'm hurting—"

"Don't," X said. "I do not want to discuss this. Please."

He paused. Her eyes projected distress, fear that he would continue talking.

"But—"

The elevator was about to reach its destination; X made a move to rush out. He looked at the panel, and the 'emergency stop' button depressed itself.

"No, we're getting this out _now_," he ground out. "No more of this. I can't be a part of this, the way we just keep having these weird little moments and then brushing it off like nothing  
happened." He paused. "At least, that's what I do."

X's lower lip trembled, and for a second he thought she might cry. _Christ,_ he thought. "X…Laura…I think there's something you should know," he started.

She responded by kissing him; probably to make him stop talking. He wasn't sure why she was so desperate to do so, as what he had to say was the right thing, and probably would  
alleviate the situation slightly—since she reciprocated his attraction, and possibly felt more for him than she let on.

He didn't pull away, though. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Would it be so bad? He could find out what he needed to know about her later. It wasn't like she was killing people  
while they were making out…he let go of one shoulder to put his hand against the wall for support, his thoughts now drifting towards the idea that he was going to have sex in a stopped  
elevator, something he'd always subconsciously wanted to do—but had never tried to initiate, seeing as his target had been the prim, proper, Catholic Sofia.

X didn't have such…reservations.

He felt a small, familiar jab of pain.

X's fingers found the small zipper at his throat and brought it down slowly. She paused as he tensed at the noise, then continued, revealing his stomach. Her smaller hands slipped in and  
ran over his skin, pushing the fabric away. She hesitated, then she sunk to her knees, and he almost lost it, realizing what she was planning. Something he'd only received once, from a girl  
who didn't know what she was doing—and used teeth.

X didn't. X knew exactly what she was doing. He sagged against the railing and elevator wall for support, sincerely needing it. He stared down at her, unable to believe she was down there  
at all and that he'd had no hand in talking her into it.

Gently, he reached out and brushed her hair out of her face. As he neared the finish, he wondered idly what was her most attractive feature, and realized he couldn't decide. Then he slammed  
his head back into the metal wall (hitting the injury from earlier and refreshing it) and arched his back, making noises.

X stood up, wiped her mouth, then reached for his zipper and pulled it back up, tucking everything into place.

He thought idly that this was now his new favorite outfit, and that he might never, ever stop wearing it. He took a shuddering breath, shook his head, and smiled slightly at her.

"Thanks," he said, his voice hoarse.

"You are welcome." X reached out and pressed a button on the elevator.

"What are you—" he said, not putting two and two together. The doors opened with a _ding!_ and she rushed out, pushing through a crowd of people waiting to enter. He stared after her, about all he  
was able to do as he was bogged down by the after-effects, and extremely confused.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** OMG, my life is a mess, lol. In no particular order, my troubles include relationship (breakup/new one/etc--still trying to sort everything out), health (killer flu--lost my voice now and can't work!--along with another problem), school, and all 3 of my computers breaking down. Luckily I managed to salvage all my stories from the computer I was writing on. I'm updating on another computer right now and it's more difficult to do than before; so please bear with my now slow updates. I haven't abandoned any stories.

Thanks, you guys rock! I will post this note on all stories that are in progress.

* * *

**-7- **

**

* * *

**

"Cessily," Sooraya said, her expression showing concern. "I need to speak with you. About Julian."

Cessily stopped in her tracks, her books clutched to her chest. "What's up?" she asked.

"The other day…he knocked on our door," Sooraya said. "And he gave me flowers. He seemed very disturbed—"

"Whoa, WHOA! JULIAN gave YOU flowers?!" Cessily dropped her books in surprise. "YOU'RE HER?!"

"What?" Sooraya asked in confusion.

"Ohmigod! It all makes sense now!" Cessily said. "He's so into you, Sooraya! He doesn't know how to tell you because he's—oh wow,  
no wonder! He feels so bad because it goes against your religion!"

"…" Sooraya arched her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Cessily reached out and put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "He told me _everything, _Sooraya. Don't feel bad. Julian—he knows what he's  
doing…and he feels bad. He wants to make things right. He will, in time…just give him a chance." She paused. "But you should know he really,  
really likes you. Trust me…I know what he's like when he _likes_ someone. And right now he's head over heels."

Sooraya stared at Cessily, overwhelmed.

**…**

In English class, Julian was aware that several people kept glancing at him; the teacher (Emma Frost), Sooraya, and Cessily. The one _he_ was aware of  
was X, who no longer looked at him, but kept her head down, covered by a curtain of hair. He felt—what _did_ he feel?

Confused. He'd been trying to tell X that he wanted to test things out with her—emotional things. On a trial basis, sort of. Without alerting too many  
people. He knew that—except for the emotional backlash because of the confusion—he'd never felt physically better than since he started interacting  
with her. He was a young guy, in his prime, and his coupling with X was satisfying his needs quite thoroughly—when they happened. He thought having  
a 'steady supply' might help him clear up a few other parts of his life.

Maybe. So many maybes. He bit his pencil and allowed his eyes to wander over to X, noting that she was wearing a very tight strapless top today. He felt a  
slight pain, and realized he was almost ready to head over to her table and start something right on her desk, with everyone watching.

On the other hand…everyone _was_ watching. He sighed and looked down again, wishing he understood what he was afraid of.

**…**

"Mr. Keller…will you come to my office tomorrow morning?" Emma Frost asked, pausing at his desk as he hurried to stuff his possessions into his bag. "Around 10,  
please. There is a matter that I feel we should discuss."

Julian froze. Emma hadn't approached him since he'd disobeyed her in the 'test'…again, X had been involved.

"Sure," he said. "What's it about?"

"I will tell you then," Emma said, her eyes like diamonds.

**…**

Saturday morning, 10 am. Julian found himself heading up to Emma's office, his eyes heavy with sleep. He found her great oak door and paused, hearing voices inside.

"…next week. I have an…"

He knocked on the door. Emma had said 10 am, and she _meant_ 10 am. He'd been late once—and never again. The woman had a way of instilling guilt, possibly with her powers.

More voices, then the door opened. "Ah, excellent. Please go in…have a seat. I will be with you shortly…Scott just called me to sign some paperwork. It will only  
take me a few moments." She turned to the inhabitant of the room. "We will continue this later, Laura."

_Laura. _Julian's eyes widened, and he peered into the room. The girl was getting up from her chair. Emma had brushed past him, down the hallway, and disappeared from view.

"Wait," Julian said, entering the room as X headed for the doors, her eyes on the ground. He stretched his arm across the expanse.

X stopped. He realized she wasn't going to look at him.

"I wanted to make sure we're okay," he said. "You seem really upset."

"…" X looked at him now, and she _was_ upset. "You are confusing me," she said angrily. "I do not understand your motives."

"I—well, I'm not sure myself," Julian said slowly. "I thought we could figure it out as we go, you know? I really don't know much about—"

X sniffled. "I want no part of this. I wish to be alone now. Please, remove your arm or I will remove it for you."

Julian stared at her with wide eyes, then retracted his arm, not wishing to risk the possibility that she would follow up on her threat.

"But—you watch me all the time," he said, confused. "Don't you like me?"

X seemed to snap.

"YES!" she shouted. "I am attracted to you! I enjoy being in your presence! Please, stop! I would rather be back in the facility than trying to understand what  
you are doing! I do not understand how to tolerate this kind of pain!"

His jaw dropped. "…"

She shoved the astonished Julian aside and stormed down the hallway.

"WAIT—X—" he shouted, but Emma Frost chose that moment to return. "Let her go, Julian," she said sternly.

She paused.

"This is what we need to talk about. Tell me, what do you know about Laura Kinney?"

Julian blinked. "Her last name is Kinney?"

"Yes." Emma smiled slightly. "Obviously, you do not know much about how damaged she is. Julian…X-23 is unfit to attend this school. If you will come sit down,  
I will tell you all you should know…and why she is dangerous."

**…**

"X-23 is the result of a project to clone Wolverine," Emma Frost said. "The division charged with this project was H.Y.D.R.A. She was created to be the ultimate  
weapon—without human emotions."

Emma paused. "It failed, due to a damaged Y-chromosome in the small sample of Wolverine's DNA. Then her creator, Dr. Sarah Kinney, decided to create a  
_female_ clone. It was successful."

Julian raised his eyebrows. "So she's not a real clone, then?"

"No. She is a designer embryo, based on Wolverine's genetic template. Parts of her DNA were modified where damage was found."

"I always wondered why her eyes were green," Julian said, almost to himself.

Emma frowned.

"Julian, she was created to be a _weapon. _Emotionless. She received thirteen years of tactical training, policies, languages, strategies, martial arts…she was raised in an  
isolated cell and deprived of anything that might allow her to feel an positive emotion. She also underwent severe torture and cruelty from the age of four onwards, in  
order to strengthen mental pathways."

Julian opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"This was done to deprive her of humanity," Emma stressed. "Later, the torture occurred when she disobeyed orders. With perfect timing. She learned to be an emotionless  
killing machine, that would obey any mission given to her. But that is not the worst of it." Emma paused. "A chemical trigger was created, in case there would ever be a  
target that she might not wish to kill. Following sufficient torture—and expose to this scent—X-23 eventually entered a blank mental state upon exposure—while killing  
anything and everything in her surroundings."

"Wow." Julian rubbed his neck. "So…she smells this stuff...and she goes nuts?"

"Yes." Emma frowned. "Precisely why she cannot be here. I do not fear that she would harm anyone, in her normal frame of mind. The girl is…damaged, yes, but I sense  
a genuine desire to rehabilitate. But…should the trigger scent reach the wrong hands, she would relapse—and I would not be able to stop her. I cannot even erase the  
programming, as it is so deeply rooted into her subconscious."

"Why are you telling me this? Isn't it private information?" Julian asked.

"Yes." Emma paused. "I care about you as if you were my own, Julian. I do not want to see you hurt. I…that is why I did not choose you to lead the team. Because I know  
difficult challenges are ahead, and I want to spare you pain for as long as possible."

"I thought you were angry," Julian said.

Emma stopped. "No. I was disappointed that you disobeyed my…request. But I had not planned for you to lead the team, even then. I am sorry I did not tell you this, but I  
sensed you did not wish to speak."

Julian considered this, then sighed. "I don't know what to do, Ms. Frost. I…I can't just _stop. _I'm in over my head here."

"Yes, you are," Emma said. "I advise you to distance yourself. She will not be here long, if I have any say in the matter."

Julian stopped abruptly. "Ms. Frost—please—X _needs_ us. She's so messed up from whatever happened to her—I never realized _why_ she's so different, but now  
that you've told me—"

"I try to help her, Julian," Ms. Frost said. "And I fail, every time. Some people just can't be saved."

He stared at her, and she avoided his gaze. "Dismissed. Come see me soon…I miss talking with you. Other than Scott, you are the only person at this institute who can  
understand some of the things I do…and appreciate them."

**…**

"JULIAN!" Cessily called, stretching along the hallway to see him. "I know! _I know who you like!" _

He froze in position, and turned around, his eyes wide. "Yeah…she told me about your talk."

Cessily looked excited. "Really?! I'm so happy! Do you think you guys will really get together?"

"I don't know," Julian said. "It's leaning in the direction of _no_ at the moment. Because of her, not me."

"Oh, Julian…" Cessily said comfortingly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "At least you had a few good times, right? _Really_ good times, I mean."

"I guess." He grinned slightly, despite himself. "But…I can't stop, Cess. I'd almost go as far as to say I'm addicted."

"Really?" Cessily asked.

"Yeah," Julian said.

"Do you want me to talk to her for you?" Cessily asked.

Julian paused. "…would you?" he asked.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **This is the final chapter of Jungle Drum. Thank you so much for reading it, and your kind reviews! I hope this ending satisfies everyone. Any unanswered questions (such as Emma's actions) can be assumed to be the same as 616 universe, unless otherwise mentioned. Also, I'm aware there are elements of cheese in this, but this was supposed to be a funny floofy story that made everyone feel good, so it will do that to the end. Thanks again and watch out for some of the other new stories I am publishing, such as thefive, and in the months to come there will be more!

~onelildustbunni

* * *

**-8- **

"Cessily," Laura said, looking at the metal girl. "I…I need to discuss something with you."

Cessily blinked in surprise, then opened her door. "Come in, sit down. That's what I'm here for."

Laura complied, feeling odd. She'd never discussed her emotional interactions with another human before; yet she felt the urge to now. The urge to  
understand what was going on.

She sat on the bed, drew her legs into a yoga position, and took a steadying breath as Cessily closed the door.

"It is about Julian," Laura said, her voice even. "I need to understand what he is doing. He…"

Briefly she described the interaction in Frost's office, while Cessily folded her arms and touched her mouth, her brow furrowed.

"I think he just feels really guilty about hurting you," Cessily said finally. "That what it sounds like, anyway. He's…trust me, he's totally obsessed over  
this other girl." She hesitated.

"Sooraya," Laura said, her voice unintentionally sharp.

"How did you know?!" Cessily gasped.

"I was present when he brought her flowers."

"Oh…" Cessily looked sad. "I'm so, so sorry, Laura. But hey…at least he knows it's wrong and is trying to make up for it. I mean—it's up to you whether  
you can ever really be his friend again—"

Laura hung her head. "Thank you, Cessily," she said, slipping off the bed. Her friend stopped her and wrapped her arms around her comfortingly; Laura  
began to cry silently.

**…**

Cessily was on a mission now; she had to tell Sooraya—for Julian—that he was 'addicted' to her. She took the other girl out for tea and told her straight  
that this wasn't going to go away. Neither ordered food, Sooraya unable to eat in public, and Cessily unable to eat period (even though she normally  
ordered to make her friends and herself feel more comfortable).

Cessily reached the part were she described the 'addiction', and again reassured her friend that it was not _wrong,_ that everyone 'did it'.

Sooraya looked troubled.

"I cannot—I do not wish to see boys. I am devoted to my religion."

"But do you _like_ Julian?" Cessily pressed.

Sooraya's eyes tilted away. "If I had had to…pick someone…it would have been Jay Guthrie. But he is…" she closed her eyes and sniffled.

"Oh, dear," Cessily said. "I understand. But…then why did you…" she left her question unfinished.

Sooraya looked confused.

"You know," Cessily said.

"I do not understand what you are talking about," Sooraya said.

Cessily paused, then leaned over and whispered in her friend's ear. Sooraya reacted as if a bee stung her; she jerked back and stared at  
Cessily with wide eyes. "CESSILY," she gasped. "I—never! _Allah!_ I—"

"It's okay," Cessily reassured her soothingly. "He told me. We all do it. Even me—with this guy once in highschool—"

"Cessily, I have done no such thing," Sooraya said seriously. "I am forbidden by my religion. I would _never_ break my vow to keep myself pure."

"…" Cessily found herself believing Sooraya's earnest, guiltless face.

"Then who…" she paused. "Oh. My. _**GOD**_."

**…**

Laura had decided: she would leave. She wanted no part in this twisted web of lies and unnecessary emotional pain whatsoever. If she was to  
be in pain, she preferred it be physical—the kind she could deal with.

She packed her bags, and began to sneak down the hallway, at the precise moment that Julian decided he had had enough, and would subdue  
her with telekinesis—no matter how risky it might be—in order to make her stay put while he explained the situation. He opened his door, headed  
purposefully down the hallway, and by pure coincidence headed her off by the stairs.

"X—" he said.

Laura closed her eyes, ignoring him.

"We need to—"

She began to run. She needed to lose him before she went outside, because she knew she stood little chance of outrunning him when he could fly.  
Down the stairs, through the kitchen she ran, Julian in hot pursuit. She entered the den where the TV was blaring, hoping to momentarily confuse  
him by hiding amongst the crowd of students gathered around the TV.

She plopped down on the leather couch, beside Rockslide, who was holding a bowl of cornflakes.

"Hey, X," he grunted.

Then Julian entered the room, his eyes glowing. "X! _Get back here!" _he snapped.

A multitude of heads swiveled in his direction. Laura jumped over the back of the couch, and shrieked as she was pinned to the ceiling, her  
hair and locket hanging down.

The heads swiveled up, watching the ceiling crack around the enormous ball of energy.

"YOU'RE GOING TO STAY THERE AND HEAR ME OUT!" Julian roared. "I'm sick to death of you giving mixed signals and running away! You, of all  
people, should at least be brave enough to FACE your problems!"

Laura glared at him, her eyes wide. "Let _go_ of me," she hissed, her teeth ground together.

"No! We're not done!" Julian shook his finger at her. "Wait—why the hell are you wearing a backpack?!"

"I am leaving," Laura said.

His grip tightened. "WHAT?! No! You need us, Laura!"

"I do not need you at all," Laura said calmly. "I am leaving…in order to extricate myself from this situation you have caused. You should be  
honest. If you are pursuing Sooraya, do not—"

"…" Julian continued to shake his finger at her. "...what?"

"This is awesome," Rockslide whispered, turning off the TV (which no one was watching any longer).

"I said—" Laura's claws popped out, to gasps amongst the small crowd. "You are dishonest. You are a liar. You are like the people who  
created me—you are consumed with _greed_. You are involved with another female, and yet you are not satisfied. This _will_ stop. I—"

Julian tilted his head. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" he asked.

Then Cessily rushed into the room, out of breath (even though she didn't breathe air). "JULIAN!" she shouted. "_I HAD THE WRONG PERSON!_"

The heads swiveled towards her.

"I thought…" she wheezed, doubled over. "I thought you were talking about _Sooraya! _I had no idea that—"

"The hell? Cess, do you really think I would do _that _with—" his eyes widened as he realized what he had just said, in public.

"You! And _X_!" Rockslide pointed at him. "You're _kidding!_ Dude, that is _wrong!_ She creeps me out so—"

"Yeah," Julian said, his eyes burning. "On _that_ sofa, actually."

People scrambled to get off the couch, Rockslide making dry gagging noises (extra dry, because he had no bodily fluids). "DUDE! WRONG,  
WRONG, WRONG—"

Laura glared at him from the ceiling. "Release me!" she said.

"X—" Julian said, then Cessily stretched elbowed him in the ribs. "Her name is _Laura, _you perfect a-hole!" she hissed.

"—I have _never_ looked at Sooraya that way," he continued, rubbing the side Cessily had prodded him in. "Ever. I've been trying to tell  
you, for the past month, that I'm sorry for what's been happening…and I want to talk to you more—but somewhere _private_." He glared  
at Santo, who was still making noises. "If I let you go, can you promise you won't run off on me?"

Laura considered. "Okay."

He released her; she dropped like a stone and he tried to catch her. She hit him in the shoulder instead and they landed in a dazed  
pile on the floor.

"Oh, man," Julian said, staring up at the damage to the ceiling. It looked as if it may have extended into the next floor. Then he sighed  
and gathered himself up, taking Laura's offered hand (as she had been the first to get to her feet).

Cessily watched them leave, clasping her hands. "They're so cute together!"

"I don't care. They were being cute all over this sofa, and I think I got some of Keller's spunk on me," Santo snapped.

"That's milk from your cereal, you idiot," Josh said, watching the bowl in Rockslide's hand tip.

**…**

In the garden, Laura re-shouldered her back pack and waited for Julian (who was beat red, and rubbing his face) to start talking.

Finally she spoke. "You are wasting my time."

"You've got plenty of it," Julian snapped, then wrinkled his nose. "Damn it, X, why do you keep making me rag on you? I don't mean half the  
things I say, but they always come out around you!"

"I cannot answer that," Laura said. "You wished to speak to me. Speak."

"Give me a second. I don't want to be _angry_ when I talk about this." Julian took a deep breath, and sat down on the garden bench. "Look,  
come sit here and we'll sort things out, okay?"

At first, Laura considered turning around and simply leaving—carrying out her earlier plan—but then she complied, reasoning that he might  
actually say something of value now.

"You go first," he said.

"…" Laura raised her eyebrows. "With what?"

"You know exactly what." Julian waited, for a minute, while Laura stared at him blankly (and angrily). "Okay, maybe you don't. You said…you liked me."

"I will not repeat myself."

"Well…I think I kinda like you, too," Julian said, flushing.

Laura stopped. "But—"

"Just a bit. I'm not—I'm not sure what Cessily said to you—she probably made it sound like I wanted to marry you and have babies but that's  
totally not how it is."

Laura shook her head. "Cessily told me you wished to pursue Sooraya."

"I have no idea where—" Julian stopped, something dawning on him, something that made sense. "The fucking flowers, right?"

She nodded, slightly, watching him.

"I got them for you," he said, looking down. "But—I kind of chickened out when I saw she was there too. I don't know why." He paused. "Did you  
get to see them?"

"Yes," Laura said. "We put them on the dresser. They smelled nice."

"Oh, okay." He hesitated, then reached over and took her hand. "I don't know where this is going…and it's off to a really lousy start…but do you  
want to, I dunno, see where it goes?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I dunno." He looked away. "Okay, I do. I, uh, want to spend more time with you…alone time."

"Why?" Laura asked.

He paused, remembering what Ms. Frost had said. Reaching out, he put his hand on her upper chest, near her  
shoulder. "I feel the same way you do."

"Oh." Laura seemed to understand now; he could see that she was digesting this information.

"And…I don't feel that way about anyone else," he added. "Just to clarify, because this has been really confusing."

Laura said nothing, but she smiled ever-so-slightly.

"About…" he cleared his throat. "I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I didn't—I've been going through a rough patch of my life…and I'm not  
used to it. I shouldn't take it out on you…and that's what I did. Well, the first time." He half-smiled. "The rest of the times…I was trying to  
apologize, but I got a bit…distracted."

"Oh," Laura said.

He paused. "So we're good? You're not mad at me?"

Laura said nothing, but she smiled again, seeing that he expected a response. She didn't really understand why it was important to him;  
she was used to such treatment, and it was the lying that had upset her most.

He hesitated, then reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer and feeling like a big weight had been  
lifted off his chest—because he had _finally _made things OK.

**…**

**- ****Epilogue -**

**…**

Six months later, Julian took a moment to recount events of late. The facility had indeed tried to reclaim Laura; then the war had begun,  
over a newborn mutant in Alaska. The team had been torn apart, the X-men disbanded; he had been injured and nearly killed by a woman  
that called herself Deathstrike; and for a while, he'd lost track of all his friends and mentors, abandoned in a hotel room.

He'd been in pain for most of the duration, lying in bed. Then Worthington's credit card had bounced—something about the purchase of a  
large area of land—and they had informed him that he would need to check out the next morning.

In the evening, someone knocked on his door: probably the room service he had ordered, the last square meal he would obtain for a while.

"Come in," he'd croaked, wincing. His body didn't like when he spoke.

There was an odd sound—not the usual keycard noise from housekeeping—and then the door swung open. He couldn't see who it was  
due to the small hallway, but he watched it anxiously.

A few moments later Laura entered the room, and stood by his footboard, surveying him. They were both silent.

"I have been looking for you," Laura said. "I was informed you were deceased."

"Oh." Julian stared at her.

"Are you in pain?" she asked.

"Yeah, quite a…bit," he said.

"Can you walk?"

"No." He looked at her pleadingly. "Don't leave me here. Laura, I…I love you, I should've told you before all this happened—"

"I won't," Laura said. She paused. "What does 'love' mean?"

"…" Julian stared at her, wanting to burn her into his retinas. She looked like he'd remembered her, her hair perhaps a little  
longer. "Come here and I'll show you," he wheezed, grinning slightly (and wincing in pain).

"Later. You are too weak right now." Laura touched his foot. "I love you too. I will return for you."

"No, don't—" he pleaded. "Come here—"

Laura turned her back on him and exited the room, just like everyone else. He waited, and waited; every time room service came,  
he twitched, thinking she might come back. She didn't, at first; he noted that the hotel was no longer contacting him to leave.

Finally, she did return, with a wheelchair (very humiliating for him) and a somber expression. She helped him off the bed very carefully,  
noting the scars all over his abdomen and the areas that required cleaning; then she wheeled him out of his prison and down the sidewalk.

**…**

He now lived a quieter life, in an apartment in California. Laura went out often, on business he knew was for the X-men; however, he found  
he did not miss it as much as he'd thought. He was slowly recovering; he could now limp around himself, and the wheelchair sat in the corner.

He felt guilty about relying on Laura for everything, including money and food; but he promised himself that—as soon as he was better—he  
would participate. He had never imagined that their strange connection would take them this far, into a world of partnership and loyal  
companionship. He'd worried, in the early stages, that they were just built on attraction and that one dry period could wipe them out;  
but he'd thoroughly tested that, now. Most of their evenings consisted of lying on the bed, watching TV together, her head tucked on a  
certain spot of his shoulder, and her hand carefully on his abdomen, not touching the scars.

And he found himself content. Beyond the inherent longing to couple, of course.

He stroked the fur of the small kitten that Laura had brought 'home' one day, offering no explanation but putting it in his hands with wide,  
hopeful eyes that he would like it. 'She' was all black, and he had found himself comparing the slinky movements to those of his human  
companion. He had therefore named the kitten X, since he called the girl by her real name, now; she had seemed to notice this, and  
used this name for the cat herself.

The door opened, and he looked to the side. Laura was holding a slew of straining grocery bags, and had opened the structure with her foot.

"Oh," he said, heading towards her.

"No. You are injured. I can—"

He lifted the bags mentally and set them down on the kitchen counter, then wrapped his arms around her waist. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Anyone hurt you?"

Laura paused. "I was shot."

"Where?" He slid his hands up her sides.

"My right shoulder."

Julian peeled her shirt down slightly. "I'll kill them," he said, even though they both knew this was an empty threat, and the skin he saw was unmarred.

Laura smiled slightly, and he kissed her shoulder. "Guess what I want to do?"

She tilted her head. "You are still injured."

"Only the upper shoulder." He took her hand and laid it on his stomach. "Feel that? It's a hundred percent."

"A hundred percent of what?" Laura asked.

"This." He slid her hand down further, under his waistband. She arced an eyebrow and he mirrored her. "We have yet to use the bed here," he grinned.

She followed him into the room and shut the door.


End file.
